Sunday, July 11, 2010

Olive Wood Ballad

Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent;
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him,
The thorn tree had a mind to Him,
When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content;
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame,
When death and shame would woo Him at last,
From under the trees they drew Him at last
'Twas on a tree they slew Him at last,
When out of the woods He came.

- Sidney Lanier




This is an ancient olive tree in Israel
reputed to be over 2000 years old.



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